


Fever.

by LeighLemont



Series: Wincesty One Shots [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Absent John Winchester, Child Neglect, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Dean Winchester, Kid Sam Winchester, M/M, Medicine, Sick Sam Winchester, Worried Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 09:59:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17896355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeighLemont/pseuds/LeighLemont
Summary: Sammy was shivering even though he was sweating and had been complaining about being hot two minutes ago. His tiny seven year old body was huddled up against Dean’s leg on one of the motel beds, tucked under the blankets and feeling miserable. Dean had already given him flu medicine and they were just waiting for it to kick in and help Sam sleep.





	Fever.

Sammy was shivering even though he was sweating and had been complaining about being hot two minutes ago. His tiny seven year old body was huddled up against Dean’s leg on one of the motel beds, tucked under the blankets and feeling miserable. Dean had already given him flu medicine and they were just waiting for it to kick in and help Sam sleep. 

“Everything hurts De. My chest, my neck, even my eyes.” Sam whined, pressing his face against Dean’s pajamas. 

“I know, Sammy.” Dean replied, carding his hand through Sam’s hair with a sigh. “You’ll feel better soon.”

Sam sniffled and curled one of his hands into Dean’s t-shirt, crying quietly against Dean’s hip. Eventually he started to calm down, the hitches in his breath evening out, the tenseness in his muscles fading away. Dean hated watching Sam cry himself to sleep, but at least Sam could get some rest now. 

Dean reached for the phone and called dad again for the third time today, but probably the hundredth time this week. He waited with held breath and hoped dad would pick up this time. He was disappointed, but not surprised when the answering machine beeped to life to greet him instead of his father’s voice coming over the line. 

“Dad, it’s me...I’m getting really worried about Sam. He still has a fever. It’s worse. I don’t know what to do.” Dean admitted into the receiver, watching Sam sleep on the mattress beside him. “Please call me, dad. What if he needs a doctor?”

Dean put the phone back down and leaned his head miserably back against the headboard. He needed to get some rest too. He didn’t know how long the medicine would help Sam sleep and this was his chance to get as much of his own energy back as he could; before he was back to helping Sam get to the bathroom to throw up, or counting bills to see how much more of this stupid medicine he could afford, or taking Sam’s temperature only to watch it slowly climb despite Dean’s best efforts to bring it back down and under control. 

Dean let his eyes fall closed, feeling Sam breathing deeply beside him. For the moment Sam was peaceful and resting. Dean thought rest could only help. Well, he hoped. 

If the fever didn’t come down by tomorrow morning...if Sam was still this bad tomorrow and he hadn’t heard from Dad? They were going to the hospital regardless of how much it was going to cost. Sam’s breathing had a small rattle to it that had showed up sometime yesterday afternoon and it was making Dean nervous. 

Why couldn’t dad ever answer the stupid phone?


End file.
